


catch it don't curve it

by meruemsthighs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Evil Customers, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, a realistic cafe, one makeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meruemsthighs/pseuds/meruemsthighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa swans into Hajime's cafe, acting like his manager to save him from dealing with a customer, and it's all downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	catch it don't curve it

**Author's Note:**

> this fic got way out of hand
> 
> enjoy!!

 

“Ma’am, no. Ok. Ok. No. I understand, but--” Hajime slowly counts to ten in his mind as the middle aged woman in front of him waves her receipt in his face, demanding a free cup of coffee. He stares and nods while she holds up the line, an increasing amount of people filling in the cafe past the maximum hold, spilling onto the sidewalk outside. There’s a burning smell coming from the back but Hajime can’t afford to look away from the Medusa grip of the latest screaming customer to see if Hanamaki’s burned a hand. He trusts Matsukawa will cover.

 

“You’re not actually listening to me, are you?! I demand to see your manager, where is he, bring him out here!” She screams again, and Hajime can feel the cold grossness of spit on his face. He temporarily entertains the thought of claiming he’s the manager, but no doubt the mess would continue. Instead he counts down the minutes till break, meditating with his eyes open.

 

He can spot another middle aged customer open his mouth in the back of the line, ready to scream, and that’s when he comes upon the life changing epiphany of anyone who has ever been in a job dealing with customer service, _I’m not paid enough for this bullshit._

 

“Ok! You’ll get a free drink, what was your order again?” Hajime brings a smile out of nowhere, practiced in the art of customer service, and expertly notches the cup.

 

“That’s fine, but you still haven’t brought your manager out. I’m not leaving his spot till you do.” She crosses her arms and Hajime contemplates throwing her out for being a disturbance, coffee mishap or not. She glares at him expectantly.

 

“Well, you can wait on the side, he should be coming out any moment.” Hajime lies, gesturing for her to stand to the side of the counter. The other middle aged customer in the line opens his mouth again, but Hajime can’t hear because Medusa starts screaming again.

 

He’s about to genuinely call Irihata when the doors behind the counter swing open. There’s a blur of the mint and white uniform, and he’s hip-checked into the coffee machines.

 

“Hello! I’m the manager, how can I help you?” A pretty voice giggles at the customer, and Hajime stares in horror at the stranger claiming to be his boss. He smiles widely at Medusa and the customer practically _melts_ in front of him. “Ah! He refused to give you your dues, well, no worries! I’ll deal with him!”

 

The line starts moving along, fast. Hajime fills them, moving enough that he doesn’t notice where the hour goes. There’s just orders to fill, cups and mugs marked and ready. The rush hour ends with a macchiato, a quick, simple fern foam art on top.

 

Hajime sighs into the sudden quiet and grinds another batch of coffee beans. He glances at the man claiming to be his boss and finds him staring, wide eyed.

 

“You’re not going to tell Irihata I said I was the boss, right? It’s just you looked like you were in trouble, and I had to!” He says, voice at odds with the confident way he took customers just a few minutes ago. Hajime raises an eyebrow.

 

“No. You drove that evil demon away, I don’t care what you call yourself. If he watches the tapes though, you’re on your own to deal with what you do.” Hajime shrugs.

 

“Oikawa Tooru! I started yesterday.” He smiles and winks at Hajime.

 

“Iwaizumi Hajime. I started a year ago.” He starts up another pot of dark roast. Oikawa chatters on about how cool it is he’s been working here for so long and such, and Hajime just nods.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

They build a routine, of sorts. Irihata must have seen the tapes and how well they work together, considering Hajime’s next month is filled with shifts with Oikawa. He can’t deny there’s a rhythm.

 

If only that were all there was.

 

There’s also a mind numbing irritation when he’s working with him. There’s messes, ridiculously long lines while Oikawa flirts with everyone and their mother, and Hajime suspects the tip jar isn’t being distributed fairly.

 

“Hanamaki, where’s Shitface? I told him to come back here so he can do garbage duty.” Hanamaki snorts in his face. He waits for Hanamaki to stop laughing and explain where Oikawa might have gone, because he’s nowhere on site. Aside from the way he’d gelled with Hajime, Oikawa also stuck with Hanamaki. Somewhere along the two week line, they’d become thick as thieves.

 

“You _told_ him you were making him do garbage?” Hanamaki wipes invisible tears and smiles down benevolently at him, as if Hajime were a naive nephew, “He’s skipped out on you. I think he ran to the pizza place down the street. Go, I’ll take over.” He rests his hand on Hajime’s shoulder, then salutes, taking stand at the register.

 

“Why are you telling me?”

 

“I told him you were going to get mad, but he still ran anyways. Better him than me doing it.” Hanamaki shrugs and clicks the pen on and off. “I also need to see Oikawa carrying five bags of garbage then trying to toss it into the gaint pile of shit. Someone who hasn’t done that yet doesn’t deserve this loyalty.” Hanamaki’s savage smile turns plastic in the face of a waiting customer. Hajime spins on his heel and keeps an eye out for chestnut locks sprayed into permanent waves.

 

He finds him leaning on the counter of the pizza place, laughing gently at a joke. Hajime marches in and fists Oikawas shirt, hauling him up in the process. He ignores Oikawa’s yelps. “I’m sorry for this, he’s still working.” He says briefly to the girl he was laughing with, a cute girl who waves it off and takes it in stride.

 

“I was _not_ , Iwa-chan, hey! Let me go, I’m taking a break--” Oikawa twists around and glares at him. He scoffs and drags Oikawa back to the store.

 

“No you’re not. You’ve only been at work for an hour. And don’t forget you were skipping on garbage duty.” He says darkly, bringing Oikawa’s face close, close enough that he can glare directly at him, at his annoyingly bright brown eyes.

 

“Ok ok ok~! It’s not that serious, Iwa-chan, I mean _you_ can always do garbage!” Oikawa gulps and moves his head away, already expecting the yelling. Hajime doesn’t. Instead, he hands him a plastic bag and points in the direction of the outer garbage bins. They’re worse than the ones inside, and it thoroughly serves Oikawa right for abandoning like that.

 

Hajime goes back in once he sees Oikawa actually doing work and relieves Hanamaki of his duty. “He’s lifting the bathroom ones, go see, his face is amazing. Show children a picture of that when they refuse to sleep and say, _look, this is what’ll happen if you keep making that face, eventually it’ll get stuck like that. Look at this tragedy.”_

 

“Ohhh shit.” Hanamaki almost bounces with glee and sits at the table facing the bathroom with a camera ready.

 

Oikawa comes back from the garbage dump and promptly washes his hands three times. “Iwa-chan, you’re so! Cruel! There’s gunk in my nails!” He whines from the back.

 

“It matches the rest of you, though.” Hajime smirks at Oikawa’s pout. He mumbles threats about leaving him to deal with wild customers on his own, but stands at the register anyways.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

Sometimes it feels like he’s working with monkeys. He doesn’t doubt people consider him part of the problem, he might be one himself by association, but Oikawa and Hanamaki together like this takes the cake.

 

The stores empty on a weekend afternoon, one or two customers coming in for a light lunch. Ideally, this would be the perfect time to take stock, make sure everything is set for the evening rush. They should sweep the floors, wipe the counters down, clean the espresso machine. Realistically, Hanamaki and Oikawa try to fire flavor pumps at each other’s mouths from increasing distances. Hajime stands as the distance judger.

 

It’s better than them sitting in a trash can and letting the other push them around the shop.

 

Or trying to make the world’s most disgusting milkshake. Hanamaki had won with a mix of peanut butter chocolate ice cream and tuna salad. Topped with bagel pieces. Oikawa had to drink that by the rules of the game, and Hajime has a video of him doing so on camera. His face had contorted from casual cuteness to horrifying disgust at record speed, it almost made Hajime sick.

 

Shooting flavor shots at each other isn’t much better, but the mess would be their own faults at the end. A stream of caramel hits Oikawa’s face, and he comes back with raspberry. Some of it gets in Hanamaki’s hair when he jumps to catch it, blending with his hair and the mocha already there. It’s the most pointless thing Hajime’s ever seen, and yet he does nothing to stop it. Yahaba’s on the side reading the morning newspaper, and Hajime knows he can leave Yahaba to deal with anything if it actually gets messy.

 

It gets messy fast. Hanamaki fires toasted almond a little too off to the side and Oikawa dives for it, not seeing the counter, but Hajime does so he grabs Oikawa’s shirt and pulls him back before he goes over. The surprise makes him drop his flavor jug, and mint flies everywhere. Hajime’s stomach drops with it, the green sugar spreading around the floor. They’ll have to stick behind till closing to clean that.

 

Oikawa untangles Hajimes fingers out of his shirt and runs for the mop. Hanamaki and Hajime get tissues and block the edges before they creep under the counter. Hajime leaves the pair of them to it in time for the midafternoon rush.

 

The edges of the mint puddle dye the floor. He sees it only when locking up, and tugged the garbage on top of it. If anyone were to look, they’d assume it was purely garbage doing what it does. They wouldn’t be too far off from the truth, after all.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

“No! He did that?” Oikawa pours steamed milk into a cup and prepares espresso, watching Kuroo explain the latest details of ongoings at Shiratorizawa Coffee. The display of dexterity’s impressive, but even more so is Oikawa’s attraction to gossip. It doesn’t matter who it is but somehow, Oikawa will know everything.

 

By extension, Hajime knows most things. It’s refreshing to find out what people he used to know in high school are up to. Apparently, they’re up many things.

 

“Found canoodling in the back behind the bean bags.” Kuroo solemnly nods. Oikawa almost squeals with delight. “Ushiwaka and their latest manager found them the next morning, and _I_ could hear them down the street. I’d be surprised if they’re still working there considering how much shit they get up to.”

 

“You never know! If they stayed this long, maybe it’s not just them. I heard Ushiwaka has a threatening problem.” Oikawa sagely strokes his chin.

 

“He shows that much emotion?” Kuroo smirks and Oikawa gives him a look while grabbing another cup to fill. He prepares a cappuccino with the same ease and it makes Hajime blink a few times to catch up to the fact that he’s been working with Oikawa for a while. It’s one thing to know factually that Oikawa had become a reliable worker, another to see him balance tasks like that.

 

“You know Karasuno’s 10? Shrimpy, twitchy little thing, looks like he’d break the machines?” Kuroo nods and Oikawa sets the finished cup down to lean in, nose almost touching his ear. It’s not even like Ushijima’s fights with Hinata are any new news. Kuroo’s eyes still widen and his grin sharpens. Oikawa moves back out and curls his hand around Kuroo’s ear again, as if exchanging national secrets.

 

It’s definitely not necessary. Hajime takes a washcloth and walks to the tables, ignoring Hanamaki’s knowing smile. There’s nothing wrong with being annoyed at Oikawa for flirting at work.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

“Iwa-chan! Catch!” Hajime turns just in time to dive for the almost full pot of coffee, launched at him from the other end of the store. He doesn’t have time to yell, he _did_ ask for a fresh pot once the ones in front of him had finished, so he immediately starts pouring into a row of waiting cups.

 

“Lid me, Oikawa!” Hajime shouts in Oikawa’s general direction and doesn’t have to look up for the plastic bag to hit his hand. He covers the cups fast and stacks them all into cup holders, handing them off and running back.

 

Oikawa comes back to man the register with two pots of fresh coffee and Hajime grinds a couple of batches. He bags sandwiches coming from Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s ends, then fills the cups waiting.

 

He’s handing someone a latte when he hears shouting. Hajime comes up to the register quickly, watching from the side as Oikawa’s charms fail to work on a customer. It’s a middle aged man with veins popping out of his forehead, and Hajime can see spit shining on Oikawas face. Oikawa opens his mouth to gently correct the customer that _no, no one was talking about him behind the counter, that he was actually saying ‘macchiato’ not ‘he’s a fat hoe’._ He doesn’t get very far when the customer starts yelling again.

 

Hajime quickly unpins his name tag and slides in. “Hello, is there a problem, sir?” he says, saccharine sweet.

 

“Yes. Where is your manager? He needs to see this, I cannot believe this type of behavior is condoned.” A spot of spit lands on Hajime’s nose.

 

“You’re looking at him. What behavior, exactly, did you hear of?” Hajime waits with his arms crossed as the customer explains some bullshit that leads into demanding free things. “Mhm. Ok. I have tapes that can confirm my worker said nothing like that at all, would you like to see?” Hajime raises a brow at the man’s sputtering.

 

“You don’t believe me? To think such an establishment would treat it’s customers this way!” He continues snarling and walks out of the store, threatening to write reviews about the cafe and get it shut down, or something. Hajime stops paying attention after the third threat.

 

He turns around to catch Oikawa staring at him with his mouth open, eyes blinking slowly. He waits, held where he stands by the depth in Oikawa’s eyes as he stares at him. “What?” He forces out, slightly rough.

 

“You pretended to be the manager for me.” Oikawa says softly. He blinks and Hajime turns around, busy with the pen on the counter.

 

“Did you actually call him a fat hoe?” Hajime asks, sparing a glance. Oikawa shakes his head. “Well, there you go then. More importantly, actually, is the fact that you threw a glass pot filled with boiling hot coffee at my head. ‘Iwa-chan, catch’. The fuck, Oikawa?” He looks incredulously at Oikawa.

 

“I trusted you.” He says with a soft smile.

 

“What kind of reverse trust fall...What?” Hajime closes his eyes, imagining it would make sense when he opens them again. It doesn’t.

 

“Ah! But you caught it, didn’t you!” He raises a finger as if in victory, then grabs a broom and smugly grins at Hajime. He resists the urge to upend a bag of coffee beans on the toothy smile.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

Oikawa twirls the broom around the store and hums something simple, pleasant enough he doesn’t complain. He spins behind the counter and out into the dining area. He opens his mouth and actually sings a few words, dipping his imaginary broom partner down, then rolls backwards to march forward again.

 

Hajime watches from behind the counter. “Oikawa, can you really sing?” He doesn’t know why he says it outloud, but it’s understandable, a little, that it would have sometime. It’s more of a surprise he hasn’t asked before during the past fourteen shifts they’ve been alone in the cafe together.

 

He doesn’t mean it as a request, but Oikawa takes it nonetheless. He coughs and holds a finger up, then fluffs his hair as if he’s performing. Hajime can see the pink of the tips of his ears trickle down to his cheeks.

 

And Oikawa sings. He walks up the counter, ditching the broom on the side of a chair with arms outstretched, asking Hajime to come down. He’s too distracted by Oikawa’s voice to do anything but playfully bat them aside. He sings like he’s been wanting to for a while, soft and rich in his ears. It’s as warm as Oikawa’s eyes, and Hajime knows he’s staring too long.

 

Oikawa opens the counter door and pulls him out, hand clasped at his wrist. He quirks a brow at the closeness, but Oikawa softens his voice down. Hajime doesn’t pay attention to what exactly he’s saying, vaguely remembering a pop song on the radio, too focused on Oikawa swinging him around the store, too focused on Oikawa’s voice almost taking Hajime’s breath from him and giving it up in song.

 

He plants his feet in the ground and uses the momentary surprise to hold Oikawa’s hands and takes the lead. He pushes him back then pulls forward and there isn’t even music or a song for them to dance to, when Oikawa keeps laughing.  

 

His eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunches into something tiny, cheeks tickled pink. Oikawa breaks one hand away and tries to cover his mouth but Hajime takes it back and pulls him closer, laughing himself. Oikawa’s eyes glisten with unshed tears.

 

“Iwa-chan!” He gasps out, “My stomach, no!” Hajime drops a hand and Oikawa immediately clutches his torso. Hajime’s laughter fades to giggles, one or two which escape regardless of him biting his lips closed. Oikawa stands straight and waves his hands in front of his face, blowing out his laughs.

 

“Ok. Ok. Ok. I’m done. We can stop--” Oikawa whispers, but he catches Hajime’s eye and completely cracks. Hajime’s not far behind. “Stop with the face!” He rasps out.

 

“Alright, ok, I’m not making anymore,” Hajime wills himself to stop but Oikawa’s attempts to stop laughing are funnier than anything, “faces.” Oikawa closes his eyes and forces his breathing down, smile shaking under it.

 

Hajime’s suddenly struck by the idea that it wouldn’t take much to kiss him. Just a hair’s breadth apart, his eyes are closed, and Hajime’s own lips tingle. He catches himself leaning forward and turns around completely before he does something.

 

“Ohmygod, I wish I took a picture of your face.” Oikawa says, voice somewhat hoarse, rubbing his eyes.

 

~

 

“Iwa-chan. Iwaizumi. Did you know it rains diamonds on Jupiter and Saturn?” Oikawa says, practically laying in his seat, staring at the ceiling. Hajime looks up, hoping to find some understanding of what exactly could lead Oikawa to remember that. There’s dots on the ceiling, and he supposes they could remind someone of stars. If spots of water damage reminded them of it.

 

“Sounds like the perfect place for you. Planning on living there?” Hajime clicks his tongue in mock realization. “Actually, planning on going back home? I know your world misses you.” He smirks.

 

“Tease all you want, Iwaizumi! They’re real!” Oikawa scrunches his face in memory of the other day’s discussion. Argument. Explanation. Really, Hajime was just pointing out all the flaws in his reasoning and giving a more likely idea. If anything, aliens live underwater in the ocean.

 

 _“Why would you go all the way outside when there’s something unknown and amazing right here?”_ He’d said when Oikawa pointed out the vastness of the universe. He was right for a bit, made complete sense, but it’s such an unnecessarily huge point of view that he’d _had_ to file it down. Oikawa paused a moment, but kept going on and on about intelligent life not just life in general.

 

Oikawa tilts his seat back till it’s far enough to fall. Hajime ignores the comment he makes about understanding intelligent life to watch Oikawa tilt back and forth in the empty cafe. There hasn’t been a customer in a little over an hour, and Oikawa’s been balancing a pen on his philtrum for half of it. He goes slightly crosseyed watching it teeter.

 

“Space is uninhabitable though. What if the aliens are actually allergic to humans?” Hajime picks the pen off and tucks it in his apron pocket, the slight brush of his fingers on skin making Oikawa’s pout deepen.

 

“ _Iwa-chan,_ don’t play like that.” Oikawa leans back dangerously far and he kicks it back upright. He then leans back far enough to fall again, and pulls out another pen to balance on his face. It’s pointless, but he balances another pen with it. Hajima snaps a few pictures and saves it as Oikawa’s contact picture. Then he gets a third pen to balance on his nose.

 

“Iwa-chan. Iwa. Chan. Look.” He mumbles, incredibly proud of himself. He winks at Hajime horrendously.

 

“Yeah, I’m looking. Let’s see how long you last.” Hajime says, opening a timer on his phone. Oikawa leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, completely in bliss, the example of relaxation. He wouldn’t look out of place on a beach or something with his hair artfully tousled, legs up on the counter, shoulders sloping into the chair.

 

“Stop staring~” Oikawa says, but Hajime grunts and continues doing so, anyways. He stares as much as he wants to. He stares past the point when he should turn away, past when Oikawa actually nods off into a midafternoon nap, past the point where it feels like he’s dumped ice cold water on his head, the realization that _holy shit I really like Oikawa._

 

*~~~***~~*

 

Hanamaki leaves a few hours before closing, and the sudden silence hits Hajime, for some reason. By all rights, it shouldn’t. He’s been alone with Oikawa plenty of times just the past couple of months, and though it had never been this late at night, the fact stands at that at it’s core, it’s nothing new.

 

It’s him, Oikawa, and the relatively new presence of feelings. It shouldn’t be tough to hide them but the thought of them being alone in the store for hours on end, till the middle of the night, thrills him. It must show on his face, somewhere.

 

He just hopes Oikawa doesn’t notice.

 

They work through the evening rush efficiently, Oikawa milking customers into forking over tips, Hajime sliding coffee before the customers are done paying. Oikawa being at his back feels good, his voice sugary and rich right next to Hajime, and he’s sure he has a dopey smile on his face. Oikawa’s not that much different, ecstatic with a bounce in his step, more so than his normal customer face.

 

The crowd thins considerably until it’s only people coming in for dates. Their shop is small, cozy, and has comfortable enough seats to make it perfect for a cup of coffee between people after work. This only lasts a few hours, but it’s the best part, for the employees. The customers are all soft from exhaustion, loose with tips and uncaring towards mistakes.

 

The atmosphere affects Hajime too. He catches himself imagining being at a table with Oikawa, doing similar things of what his customers are doing. He pictures them sharing a sundae, kicking each other under the table, quick pecks tasting like coffee.

 

“What’s that wistful look for, Iwa-chan? Hmm?” Oikawa whispers, sliding up next to him. Hajime can spot fudge syrup on his hands.

 

“I want a sundae.” He blurts out. Oikawa raises his brows and guestures at the ice cream vats just in the back. “No, we’re at work.”

 

“I’ll make you one before we close then. Come on, a _nice_ one.” Oikawa grins down at him. He nods, not trusting his voice to come out sounding like a beached whale. His cheeks feel hot under Oikawa’s appraising gaze and he looks at him then, into russet eyes, caught in them. There’s a _look_ , a question, on Oikawa’s face, and Hajime isn’t sure if he’s reading it right. He’s sure whatever Oikawa’s looking for is plastered on his face.

 

The spell breaks when a customer calls Hajime over. There’s a satisfied smirk on Oikawa’s face when he turns back around.

 

The cafe cleans out an hour before closing. Hajime wipes a table down for the third time and firmly doesn’t think about Oikawa’s offer, but it’s futile when Oikawa brings out a large banana sundae, fat circles of ice cream drizzled with fudge and topped with whipped cream. Nuts dot the blackcurrant syrup between the ice cream scoops.

 

“I told you I’d make it!” Oikawa crows at the surprised expression on his face. Oikawa hands him a spoon and sits down, immediately starting on the closest scoop. “You know, Iwa-chan, I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted, but you were looking reeeeeally closely at the raspberry so here.” He gestures at the seat across.

 

Hajime sits down and takes a spoonful. He can’t stop the happy sound that he makes, it’s embarrassing, and Oikawa just gets more smug.

 

“I don’t know why you’re so proud, I taught you how to do all this.” He reminds Oikawa. Oikawa shrugs and takes another spoonful, a bit of syrup smeared on the edge of his lip, eyes on Hajime.

 

“I can be smug about that too. It’s been so long since then.” Oikawa says obstinately, lightly kicking Hajime’s foot. He instinctively kicks back and covers it with another bite of chocolate.

 

It comes down to him warmly when hes waving a raspberry and chocolate covered spoon in Oikawa’s face, arguing if truly tea tastes better with milk or not. It’s not serious, he knows for a fact that Oikawa doesn’t like it with milk either way. Oikawa takes Hajime’s wrist and takes the bite that he had unintentionally offered.

 

Hajime kicks him in return under the table and he has the sudden feeling that its a little of what he’d imagined earlier. Somehow, Oikawa had seen what he wanted and pulled it out of his thoughts. It sits strangely in his stomach. He wonders what else Oikawa’s caught on his face.

 

Oikawa looks at him with a strange expression across the table, and while it’s not one Hajime can decipher so quickly, it is one Hajime likes directed at him.

 

It sounds like a date, feels like a date, all the way up to where they part at the bus stop. Oikawa looks down at him softly and Hajime’s mouth suddenly dries, his throat stuck under it. Oikawa doesn’t seem to care. He just waves and skips off towards his own bus stop, humming some nonsense song.

 

*~~~***~~~*

 

The small space annoys Hajime to no end. The area behind the counter only has about two and a half feet width, and _all of it_ gets taken up by Oikawa. It now doesn’t matter what Hajime’s doing, Oikawa will be up in there, in the tiny crawl space the cafe owner calls a work place.

 

Hajime doesn’t mind but it becomes increasingly distracting, and increasingly normal, when Oikawa drops his chin down on Hajime’s shoulder to read an order. Hajime’s hands hover over the screen and he has to ask the customers to repeat what they said.

 

Oikawa brushes his fingers too many times while taking marked cups from him. The press of Oikawa’s permanently cold fingers burns on his hands when he has to turn around and pay attention to his work.

 

They bump into each other more times than he can count, more and more after their sundae together. Oikawa hip checks him into the counter, into the coffee stands, taking his hand and pulling him away when he needs something.

 

It’s distracting and spins his mind.

 

Hajime doesn’t mind, exactly. Not enough to stop it properly. He returns this with more than his fair share of touches and unnecessary closeness, curling hands around arms to lead him around, lingering on his back to push him into the kitchen, leaning in too far to tell Oikawa to do something specific to a drink. He’s halfway sure Oikawa’s doing this to confirm something instead of ouright asking, and it doesn’t hurt to hold his hand to put a broom in it.

 

Oikawa gets the slightest bit red whenever Hajime does anything, especially so when he comes up close enough to almost taste Oikawa’s bubblegum breath. He teases and pulls all the same, drawing up unreasonably close to pass behind Oikawa to take the cups, worth all the maneuvering when Oikawa stumbles charming a customer.

 

He can take less than he dishes out, and Hajime loves it.

 

It keeps going for a while. Hajime almost forgets what he’s doing, it’s so natural to be so tactile with Oikawa.

 

“Come with me, then.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop it. All this waiting, this understanding between them both unspoken yet still so present, and he forgets it’s unspoken at all. “If you think you know what you’re talking about, let’s go. I’m telling you the place knows how to make it, they changed their cook since the time your sister went!”

 

Oikawa glances at him out of the corner of his eye and nods. “Fine, ok, let’s go. Tomorrow I’m done early, so you can pick me up from here.” He hands a milkshake to a waiting kid with a sweet smile.

 

So they go. Hajime comes a little cleaner, a little nervous but it all drops when Oikawa practically skips out of the cafe with him, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the train station. His mouth runs the entire time, talking about everything and anything.

 

“See? I told you so.” He smugly declares at Oikawa’s surprised face. He takes his knife and cuts a piece of steak.

 

“It is so much better than you were saying.” He admits. “Still! Next time we go out, we’re going to a place _I_ know is good. This place could have been really bad, Iwa-chan, you like peanut butter and actual butter on toast!” Oikawa says, punctuating it with a bite. Hajime’s still stuck on the next time part.

 

“That was one time and _you_ made it wrong for a customer.” Hajime points out, narrowing his eyes.

 

“You still liked it, though.” Oikawa raises his eyebrows, eyes glinting.

 

They finish soon and walk through the streets surrounding the place. It smells crisp, slightly chilly, with Oikawa’s hands the coldest on Hajime’s. He doesn’t mind, with his hotter than they should be.

 

They make their way back to Oikawa’s place, and Hajime hesitates on the steps. Oikawa looks the same as ever, quietly happy, soft in the way he looks at him. He stands and waits as Oikawa takes his time with his keys, and his feet step forward as soon as he sees why Oikawa’s taking so long with it.

 

Why Oikawa’s been taking so long with everything. He’s been waiting for Hajime to make the final move, and he does so, a hand reaching up, cupping his head, fingers in his soft brown locks, and he leans up with his heart in his throat.

 

He looks up into Oikawa’s eyes to see them already closed. He catches Oikawa’s lips, softly at first, then more, harder, more insistent as Oikawa kisses back. Keys drop to the floor and Oikawa’s hands grip Hajime to him. He moves pleasantly, lips caught between his, running a tongue along the soft edges. Oikawa opens up and Hajime deepens it. Hajime can taste sauce and coffee on his mouth.

 

They step back for a moment and the world’s a haze behind Oikawa. He himself looks dazed and a rush of satisfaction goes through Hajime that _he_ was the one that did that with just one kiss. He lightly presses his fingers down on Oikawa’s head and pushes up to meet him for another kiss, lost in the feel of his tongue with Oikawa’s teeth biting down on his lip, lips leaving his to ghost ones down his cheeks down his neck, finally closing in on his throat, sucking and pulling.

 

Hajime groans at the teeth scraping and pulls Oikawa’s hair back up to kiss him, breaking ever so often to breathe, catching lips again for more. His lips leave and he burns a trail down Oikawa’s throat, tasting the day’s exhaustion on him, salty and sweet. Oikawa moans loud when Hajime backs him against the railing and bites down, running his tongue over it to sooth it back.

 

“Iwa-chan. Iwaizumi.” Oikawa gasps out. Hajime can feel the tremors under his mouth and hums. “Hajime.” Oikawa says, pulling him off. He steps back and takes a look at Oikawa, leaning against the railings with red on his throat, bruised lips and wild hair. “Let’s go inside.” He looks at Hajime with pupils blown wide, and Hajime nods quickly.

 

Oikawa’s hands don’t fumble with the keys this time.

 

*~~~***~~~*

**Author's Note:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
